Perspective
by Gottahavemyncis
Summary: Follows Hard Truths and Hard Choices; the third and last story dealing with the fallout from Gibbs' remark to Palmer in S13 episode 5, "Lockdown". Tim-centric with everyone included. Not recommended for Abby fans.
1. Chapter 1

Perspective

As he tucked suits and shirts in his garment bag, Tim watched Lilah out of the corner of his eye. She was fussing with the items he'd stuff into his carry-on; he knew she was unhappy about this trip.

"Hon, it's only four days and there's excellent security on site; you know the FBI _and_ your guys signed off on it. I'm staying in the building where the conference is being held so no worries about driving from the meetings to the hotel and back. It'll be fine."

"A conference about drug cartels, in Mexico, a country nearly ruined by drug cartels, with representatives from nearly every country in North and South America and I shouldn't worry? Try again!"

"My security teams and I will be armed with our Sigs and knives."

"Wear a vest and helmet?"

"Uh…yeah sure, I'll wear a vest, no helmet." He almost laughed at the mental image of him showing up wearing a helmet but thought better of it.

She made a noise, went to her bureau and pulled out a package, tossing it down on the bed. "Here, that's the newest model vest, not even on the market yet. Much lighter and stronger than what your agents are currently using."

Tim picked it up and nodded, "Feels lighter. Where did you get this?"

She smirked, "I know people."

He chuckled, "I promise to wear this and to duck if there are problems."

"So you will admit there might be some."

He just looked at her, rolling his eyes. "Right, I've been a federal agent for 19 years and never expect trouble."

She gave him a small smile, "Call me every day?"

"Of course. Probably won't be the same time every day but I will call."

"Even if it's past midnight, call, please Tim."

He kissed her soundly as he promised. His packing complete, he sent a text to his security team that he'd be ready in 5 minutes. Tucking the vest in his carry-on and closing the bag, he picked up his garment bag while his wife carried his carry-on on her lap. They moved down the hallway to the family room where the kids were working on a jigsaw puzzle. Jorry and Zoe, age 4, were helping 3 year old Anna with some of the pieces and Granducky, as the McGee and Palmer kids called Ducky, worked with the three of them.

"Ah, Timothy, ready to go then?"

"Yes, the sooner I leave, the sooner I'll be home!"

Ducky chuckled, working to keep the atmosphere light for the children and Delilah.

The kids ran to their dad and a lot of hugging and kissing goodbye went on until Tim's phone buzzed. "That's my ride. All right, you three be good and help your mom and Granducky, ok?"

Grinning they nodded and watched as Daddy kissed Granducky and Mama goodbye. "Don't forget to bring presents, Daddy!" Chuckling, he kissed Lilah one more time as he went out the door.

As Tim climbed into the agency sedan, he leaned back against the seat, sighing. Clauson, part of his security team, raised an eyebrow, "You ok there?"

He huffed, "My wife is not crazy about this trip and I can't say I blame her. You guys got your vests?"

Mohr, also part of the security team and currently driving, looked in the rearview mirror, "Of course!"

A year ago, Leon Vance decided to shake the McGees' life up a little more by asking Tim to serve as one of his Assistant Directors. When Tim agreed, he immediately gained a security team and a chauffeured agency sedan. It'd taken him a while to get used to the security measures and even longer for his family to get used to them. Now he was glad they were going with him to Mexico and that they'd be joined by two additional security guys from DC.

Because security was a top priority, Tim and his entourage were flying on the agency's private jet. Once they reached the airfield where the jet was waiting, they offloaded the bags, taking most of the luggage aboard with them. Tim met the DC guys and smiled as he recognized one of them from his years aboard the Yard. The other man nodded at him, "Assistant Director McGee, good to see you again."

Tim smiled, "Please, when titles are necessary I prefer Agent, otherwise I'm just a bureaucratic wonk."

The man shook his head, "I doubt you're ever that! And while I appreciate the title/no title in your everyday life, Sir, we're on full protocol for this trip."

Tim grimaced as he nodded his acceptance; he'd never admit it aloud but every once in a while he longed for someone to bellow "McGee!" or "Probie!"

The flight was fairly smooth; after Tim again reviewed the notes for his presentation he relaxed and slept the rest of the way, waking only when the flight attendant brought their meals around. Once on the ground, two of the security agents searched the limo sent to bring them to the hotel and conference center.

Tim got settled into his room before changing into more formal clothes for the reception, remembering to wear the vest. The reception was fine, a bit noisy as representatives from 33 of the 44 countries, territories, dependent and non-sovereign areas of the Americas met and mingled. Some of the Caribbean island nations banded together to send representatives. Two South American countries without representation had been hit with back to back natural disasters and couldn't spare the resources.

Tim listened to the cacophony of voices speaking, for the most part Spanish, Portuguese, French, Dutch and English. Everyone here was involved in law enforcement and had some level of expertise in dealing with cartels. He was one of 9 representatives from the U.S., he supposed he should be thankful that weren't more than 50 of them, one from each state and territory!

After the welcoming talk by the lead Mexican representative, the representatives were formally introduced after which they promptly returned to drinking, eating and talking with whoever looked or sounded interesting.

Tim didn't stay late, he knew the rest of the conference would be far more taxing and he wanted to sleep while he could. And he certainly didn't need to eat or drink any more than he already had. Discreetly sending his team a text, he had a reply that two of his guards waited for him at the edge of the reception. Back in his room, he called home and happily chatted with his family. That was Day One.

Day Two was speech day as several representatives spoke of their experiences. Most of the day was set aside for presentations and Tim was pleased with the reception of his presentation. He answered several questions during cocktails and over dinner, feeling confident that the agency information would prove useful for other agencies, other countries. He was late calling home and the children were already asleep. Lilah held the phone to their ears anyway and he told them goodnight and that he loved them.

Day Three would have three additional presentations in the morning and then questions, answers and discussion groups for the rest of the day and tomorrow, Day Four.

Early afternoon on Day Three. They'd had two presentations, broke for lunch, regrouped for the third presentation and were just breaking up into groups for discussion when there was an explosion outside their meeting room. Security guards with the delegates in the room rushed to secure the doors while nearly everyone there reached for his or her weapon. For a moment there was quiet and then the doors burst open and figures dressed in black and wearing dark balaclavas shot automatic weapons into the ceiling and floor. They poured in, overpowering any resistance and Tim's trained eye saw they were looking for specific people. Anyone who got in their way was shot down and fire fights broke out although it was difficult with the crowd; the representatives tried not to shoot their fellow delegates. Tim joined the fray and felt they were making headway when everything went black.

He woke with an aching head and feeling something, probably blood dripping onto his face, with no idea how long he'd been unconscious or where he was. With a blindfold tied securely, he couldn't see and was unable to search for the wound as his arms and wrists were secured. However he quickly found he could wiggle his fingers and maneuver his hands slightly. He lay still and quickly realized he was in a moving vehicle, probably a truck from the sounds of the engine. The compartment felt cramped, the air was stale and there was no padding, he was laying on metal, there were constant bumps, he thought it might be something like a small delivery truck. Able to move around a little, he found he had a companion, one who wasn't moving at all. He maneuvered enough to check the person's pulse and was relieved to find one. Awkwardly shimmying and bumping around, he did his best to search for other victims. Sure enough he found a third person, also unconscious; that person's pulse was weaker than that of companion #1.

Tim made sure to rub his face and the patch on his head that hurt the most on the solid surfaces of the vehicle, leaving as many clues and as much evidence as possible. He moved enough to have an idea of the boundaries of the walls of the compartment they were in. While his wrists, arms and feet were tied, he wasn't gagged and he spat saliva onto the floor. A button had become loose on his shirt and with his teeth he managed to break the thread, dropped the button onto the floor and with effort pushed it into a corner where it hopefully wouldn't be noticed by the bad guys. Exhausted he lay down to rest.

He woke when he felt the heat of the sun on him, the back door on the truck or van must be open. Wondering how long he'd slept, was this what should have been "Day Four" of the conference or a day or more beyond that? He heard and felt his companions being removed from the truck and decided to 'play dead' in the hopes of leaving more clues and discovering more of what was going on. As he was dragged from the truck he managed to turn a foot and left at least three shoe prints or partial prints, which would be unique if noticed. He had large narrow feet and the shoes he'd worn the day of the attack were purchased from a specialty store. One of his captors stumbled and fell; Tim fell onto what felt like rocks and tree branches. He quickly grabbed a branch and left fingerprints and did the same with a large rock, then dipped his head and quickly spat, hoping for either blood or saliva. His ankle was caught on something and Tim felt a sock or pants leg ripping. He helped it out as best he could before the dirt bag finally regained his feet and picked Tim up to drag him along again.

He was disappointed when he was unceremoniously tossed into what felt like a small space, he thought it was the trunk of a car. Not good. This one felt smaller and he was alone, he and his companions had been separated. After leaving more clues in the trunk – another button sacrificed as well as saliva and a cuticle bitten off and spat out, followed by enough blood to satisfy any forensic tech – he turned his mind to working on why he specifically had been kidnapped. He wasn't well known to the public, he worked for a small federal agency who had as much experience with cartels as any other, oh crap, the Reynosa cartel! What if they'd taken him…but for what? Paloma was dead, her brother had died in prison and the cartel had passed into other hands. Gibbs, the third player in that revenge scenario, was no longer a federal agent and no one seemed to know where he was. Unless Tim had been taken by one of the men protecting Paloma that day in Mexico, the day he'd offered his own life because of Abby's refusal to follow orders, he couldn't see a reason. He'd spent most of the summer they'd been tracking the cartel up north at the international border with Canada. He mentally crossed that cartel off his list. He wasn't worth anything to the agency, well he was but they wouldn't negotiate or pay a ransom. It must be information then. He wished he knew who else had been taken, whether he and his two companions had been the only ones or if more representatives had also been kidnapped.

He fell asleep again, not waking until the vehicle stopped. A bottle of water was forced down his throat and then he croaked out a request in Spanish to relieve himself. Dragged several feet, he stood, noticing the lack of warmth from the sun and feeling the weapon at the back of his head while one hand was untied. When he was done leaving more evidence, making a mess on purpose, his hands were again bound and he was gagged for the first time. So there must be other people around now, people not involved in this. That was interesting. He was led somewhere, pushed forward and then something sharp jabbed his neck and everything faded out.

When he woke again, he was in a building that smelled like hay, animals and poop. He was sitting more or less upright against what he figured was a post, tied to it at the waist, his feet bound, blindfold intact and his head wet, like someone poured water over him. Hearing footsteps walking away, he counted 3 sets. Not sure all three left the building, his fingers scrabbled around on the ground as far as they could reach looking for something small and hard to throw. He found something he was pretty sure from the shape was hardened animal poop and managed to maneuver the zip tie that was around his torso, moving up the post until he was standing. He tried rubbing his head against the post, hoping to loosen the blindfold, to no avail. His hands and feet were also bound with plastic zip ties, no amount of rubbing was going to loosen those. The fact that no one shot or stopped his attempts gave him the answer about being alone so he put the hardened object in his pocket in case he could use it for something later. He heard a large something moving and then a weight on his shoulder as a large head rested there, sniffing him. A horse, good, he'd been around horses when he was a kid, his maternal grandparents had had a farm with working horses. He made friendly noises through his gag and the horse rubbed his nose against him. Huh, interesting.

When he could no longer stand, he maneuvered the zip tie around his torso and shimmied to sit down again, hitting the ground with an ungraceful thump and then sighed as the horse folded itself down beside him, keeping him warm. He was still alive, he could only hope and pray he'd stay that way.

XXX

Delilah was at work the day before Tim was due home when the head of the office where she worked appeared in the doorway and asked her to come to his office. When she saw Tony waiting there for her she stopped moving and looked at him, trying to breathe, finally managing to say,

"Is he dead?"

He shook his head and motioned her in so he could close the door.

"Not dead, kidnapped. There was an attack on the conference, several dead, more wounded and three kidnapped, including Tim. One of 'his' aircraft carriers was nearby and the Agent Afloat was on the scene in less than an hour. Others are working the crime scene, she's tracking the kidnappers along with agents from Southwest and DC."

She swallowed hard, "Why Tim? What do they gain? No law enforcement agency will pay ransom or negotiate with them." She looked up at Tony, "Who else did they take?" He told her and she frowned. "I don't think he knows them, I've never heard him mention those names or their countries, except in general…you know."

Tony nodded, that's what he and Vance thought but figured Delilah might know more. He sighed, "Delilah, we have to put you, the kids, Ducky and Penny into protective custody until we figure it out and bring him home."

"And Sarah."

"Yeah, she's already on her way to a safe house, under protest."

Delilah huffed, "That's our Sarah. All right, how does this work?"

"You'll come with me and someone will get your car later. I've already spoken with Ducky, told him to pack bags for him and the kids. I'll call Penny when we get to your place. Then we'll take you to a safe house."

She nodded. "I need to let my parents know."

"No, sorry, can't do that. How often do you normally speak with them?"

"Once or twice a week but this week they've called every night while Tim's gone, hoping to help the kids…and me."

Tony made a decision, "Ok, they know me, I'll give them a call after you're settled."

Delilah just nodded, scared and angry with the universe. Wasn't it enough that slime Parsa left her paralyzed, now it had to play nasty with her husband, her Tim? She tried not to cry, but wasn't successful and leaned into Tony's shoulder as he knelt beside her. "He's still alive, Wheels, they'll contact us to let us know what they want. We'll get him back."

XXX

Tim woke to find himself in a different space, there was no friendly warm horse here although it still smelled like hay, animals and poop. He was bound to something flat he thought might be raised off the floor. A table then. He moved a little and found he had some play, he could probably roll from one side to the other. Still, this wasn't good at all, a thought that was quickly confirmed when the first blows fell. At first they were punches, to his ribs and head, then there was a lull while someone swore a blue streak in Spanish and some sort of French, maybe a creole from one of the islands? Tim wondered what they wanted from him, why they hadn't given him a chance to hear their demands before attacking. Or maybe they figured they'd hurt him badly enough that he wouldn't hesitate to give them whatever information they wanted.

He tried very hard not to think about all the classified information he knew, but there'd been so much over the years he didn't have a clue. Except that he'd been in Mexico, a place he hadn't been since the day that he offered his life in place of Abby and the forensic students. Drug cartels, Mexico, forensic students, Abby Sciuto. He tried to remember what he'd been told about her current status. She remained in a maximum security prison and apparently spent a lot of time in solitary because she still routinely made threats against him.

His thoughts ended when the blows resumed, this time he was hit with what felt like an iron bar but since he didn't feel his organs bursting he decided it was probably the wooden part of a shovel or something like that. Whatever it was hurt like hell and he made a distressed noise, trying to roll away from the pain. He was struck again repeatedly, now held down and behind the gag he screamed in pain. He vaguely heard something and smelled something warm nearby, horse smell and heard the horse, his horse he thought, making distressed sounds. He rolled toward the smell just as something stabbed into him; he screamed again and then mercifully lost consciousness.

XXX

Aboard the Navy Yard, Leon Vance paced in his office. Nothing had been heard from the kidnappers in the days since Tim McGee had been taken. The other two kidnap victims had been found dead, shot in the head. Preliminary autopsy reports showed it likely that neither had regained consciousness after the attack at the conference. Small mercies. The three men had few things in common. They were in Mexico, worked in law enforcement in three different countries and had been chosen to represent their governments at the conference.

Vance looked at the photos again and then growled in frustration. What was he missing, what were they all missing? He punched Rick Carter's number, "You busy? Need fresh eyes! Bring Bishop too."

The pair hurried in to find their boss staring at the photos of the dead kidnap victims, photos of their bodies and of their passport and work id photos. Bishop looked at them, "They have similar head and body shapes as Tim. And…how tall are they?"

Leon looked at the information he had. "6'1" and 6'2"."

Rick looked, "So about the same height as Tim. Hair is about the same color as his; one has thicker hair than he does, the other has less than he does. Eyes…blue and green. Pale skin."

Bishop pointed to their shoulders in their work and passport photos, "Kind of like Tim's posture when he's tired. Shoulders slump a bit."

Vance shook his head, "They couldn't tell which one was him so they took all three and then killed the two who weren't Tim. Shit!"

Bishop looked at the two men, "That means it's personal."

They nodded and Ellie squared her shoulders resolutely, "I'll put the word out that this is a personal hit, should help narrow the suspect list."

Rick frowned as he said the first name to come into his head and Vance's eyes widened as he grabbed his phone to call the FBI.

XXX

Delilah watched Penny read a story to the kids, trying to keep them occupied while they were penned up indoors. With every hour that passed she lost more hope that she'd ever see her Tim alive again. Last time Tony had been here he held back information. When she pushed he said it wasn't relevant to Tim but she didn't believe him. Still if it was news about someone that wasn't Tim, Tony was right; she'd rather not know.

XXX

Feeling like he was on fire, Tim groaned and then screamed in pain as something dug into him. He vaguely heard whispering and felt a hand trying to soothe him. He tried to move his hands and was surprised when there was no resistance. He couldn't see, he didn't understand why his hands were free but his eyes were still covered but he pushed on, reaching around him, trying to find out where he was, who was touching him and most of all who the hell was hurting him. But the effort quickly exhausted him and he was pulled under again.

The next time he was aware of anything, his head was raised, someone was holding it up and there was liquid touching his lips, a voice urged him to drink, that it was water, safe to drink. He drank until the cup was moved. He made a noise and called for his wife. Where was she? When she didn't come he tried called for Penny and Ducky but the only person he heard was the one who gave him water. He heard words again and strained to hear them. The words said that he was getting better every day and he should sleep some more now.

He was asleep again when the person who'd soothed him returned from the hunt. Successful, the quarry had been turned over to other people to handle. Now the priority was again the wounded man.

Tim felt the warmth of the sun and woke again. This time his eyes were uncovered and he could see, although not 100% and he frowned wondering what was wrong. A voice beside him explained that one of his eyes had been injured and they'd kept both covered while it healed. It was now partially but not fully healed. He could move his head by himself now and with his cloudy vision saw two figures sitting by him, he thought they were a woman and man. He cleared his throat and opened his mouth when a straw appeared at his lips. He sucked at the liquid, holding it in his mouth before swallowing. It felt like heaven on his dry throat. He tried to sit up and the bigger figure moved around to help him but only propped up his head and shoulders. His voice was rusty but he needed to talk, he had questions, so many questions. But first he said "Thank you. Did you rescue me?"

A soft voice, the woman, said yes, her husband rescued him and got help for him. He was now at their home in the village they lived in.

"Mexico?"

"No, Colombia."

"My family…"

A voice that sounded vaguely familiar rumbled, "We sent word. Someone will be here in a day or so to take you home."

Tim frowned, "How did you know…I still had my id on me?"

The man smiled to himself, hearing the incredulous note in the voice of the injured man.

"Yes."

"What about the other two who were kidnapped with me, do you know?"

"No, we don't." He'd heard they'd been shot in the head but he didn't think this was the right time to share that information and it was just hearsay.

"What about the kidnappers? How…Colombia…the Pan American Highway stops in Colon, Panama."

"They must have flown you here."

Tim grunted, "Must have happened after they knocked me into the trunk."

The man continued, "I caught two of the kidnappers and turned them over to the Colombian LE…cops." He caught himself but it was almost time anyway. Another day maybe.

Tim thought aloud, "There were three of them, I counted three sets of footsteps. The horse! What happened?"

"I only saw the last bit, that mare saved your life. Bad guy had a hayfork and was going to spear you with it. You were in pain and made noises that distressed the horse. I was too far away to stop the bad guy or get a clear shot so I called out to distract him. But he still moved the hayfork like he was going to spear you with it. You must have heard the horse because you rolled toward her and only one of the tines got you, on your right side. The horse reared up and knocked the guy with the fork down and well, it wasn't pretty."

"She killed him?"

"Yeah and the other two ran. My brother-in-law saw them jump in a car and followed them to an old house."

Tim was quiet while he processed this, belatedly realizing the entire conversation had been in English. The woman had an accent, the man did not. Huh, interesting.

"Thank you."

"Welcome."

"I don't even know your names."

The woman spoke, "I'm called Rita and this is Roy."

"Rita, Roy, thank you for saving my life."

XXX

Leon was surprised when Tobias Fornell and Ron Sacks appeared in his office. "We have news."

He grunted, "About time!"

"As you know, the Mexican authorities found an abandoned truck with two bodies in the back. Their forensic tests show that some of the blood is McGee's, so his presence with them is confirmed and that he was injured, probably knocked out in the attack. They also found a button off a shirt. They told Ron the thread looked like it had been chewed. That's McGee leaving clues. They're working on tracing the route to see if they can find the end point."

Vance opened his mouth and Fornell said, "Also, we have a lead on a plane that took off from an airfield about 150 miles from the conference without a flight plan."

Vance nodded. "Appreciate the information. Any word from the prison?"

"Have our best profilers on the job, if there's anything going on, they'll figure it out."

"It's been a week. If this really is personal, McGee's likely being tortured or he's already dead."

"He's alive, he's gotta be alive."

Vance gave Fornell a look and Tobias closed his eyes silently missing his old friend, wondering if his famous gut would have found McGee by now.

Days later Vance sat in his office, his elbows on his desk holding his head. It'd been too long, all his experience told him it was too late, Timothy McGee was dead. When his desk phone rang he reached for it.

"Director Vance."

An accented voice spoke, "Director Vance, my name is Colonel Damian Crespo with the National Police of Colombia. I apologize for contacting you directly but it seemed the quickest way. Your kidnapped agent, Timothy McGee, has been found alive."

Vance couldn't speak for a second and then said the first things on his mind, "Thank God! How is he, what happened, is he there with you?"

The Colonel was pleased he had good news, "He was badly injured but is recovering. One of your expatriates rescued him, a Leroy Jethro Gibbs." Vance lost the rest of what the Colonel said as he reeled in shock at the news that Gibbs - _Gibbs -_ had rescued Tim. He finally tuned back in to hear the Colonel say,

"…he is recuperating at their home. I have the phone number for you…" he read it out before continuing, "Let us know how you wish to proceed."

"We'll bring him home on a government jet, a U.S. government jet. Do you know which airfield would be closest to where he is?"

The man gave him the name and Vance wrote it down. "I'll need to call you back with the estimated time of arrival."

"Of course, Director. Here is my direct number and also my cellular number."

"Colonel, thank you for this news. Not only is Tim McGee an asset to our country and our agency, he's a husband, father and friend. You've made a lot of people very happy!"

"It is a rare pleasure in our work, eh Director? I am happy to do it."

They talked about the kidnappers and Vance wasn't surprised to learn that Gibbs had tracked down and turned in two of them. The third one had evidently been stomped to death by a horse; the Colonel chuckled as he told Vance that Gibbs witnessed it and that the horse had attacked the kidnapper while he was trying to stab McGee with a lethal weapon, a hayfork.

They disconnected and Vance picked up the phone to call his former agent. He wanted to verify the story before he called Delilah; it just seemed so incredible.

XXX

Tim tossed and turned. His dreams were disjointed, he was in the old bullpen and blue eyes were staring at him. Roy, who was Roy? He was at home, getting ready for a swim, making sure to lather sunscreen on the scar on his stomach where the shard of glass had pierced him. The only time he could remember Gibbs being nice to him. His rumbling voice was comforting…Gibbs…rumbling voice…Leroy Jethro Gibbs…Le…Roy. Blue eyes staring at him. Blue eyes…Le…roy.

He woke with a start, calling out as he tried to sit up, stopping at the wave of pain, "Boss? Boss, are you here?"

His face scrunched up in pain and he took a breath, he must be wrong; he muttered sadly, "I thought it was you, dreaming…"

Strong arms wrapped around his shoulders and he looked up, saying,

"Roy…Le _roy_ Jethro Gibbs."

The blue eyes were moist as the man nodded. "Yes Tim, it's me."

Tim was so relieved he laid his head on the man's shoulder. "You saved me. You came after me and saved my life. How did you know?"

Gibbs sighed, "I didn't, not for sure. It's a long story, I'll tell you when you're stronger." Tim moved his head to give him a look and he huffed, "Or now. I've been here since I left DC and I've made it my business to know what's going on. This is a small village and we're vulnerable, so I keep my ears and eyes open and I've established some decent contacts. There was a rumor going around that there was a hit out on an American who'd be in Mexico for a cop conference. But the hit was put out by a prison inmate in the U.S. and I could only think of one person crazy enough to do that and only one person who might be her intended victim. Thing was, by the time I heard the rumor and put the pieces together, you'd already been kidnapped. Then I got lucky, _we_ got lucky."

He stopped to breathe and pull his thoughts together, even in his new life he wasn't usually this much of a talker. "I was over on the coast one evening, been talking with my contacts, looking for news about the kidnapping and decided to do some fishing before I came home. I was right off the side of an airfield over there, where I keep my boat. I saw a plane come in with only the taxi light on, which is illegal, and there wasn't anyone on the ground. And that was odd because it wasn't that late and I've been around this airfield before, it generally has a fair amount of traffic. I pulled my boat into the reeds and watched, saw a big truck, looked like an old troop transport only with a door at the back, pull up and a long bundle of something was carried off the plane and dumped into the back of the truck. I beached the boat and got to my truck, waited until they left and tailed them. Had no idea what was going on but my gut was pinging something fierce. Then I realized I only had a knife with me, no gun. I called Rita and she sent her brother Matteo to me with my guns. After I stopped to meet up with him it took me a few minutes to find that damn truck again. I followed it until it stopped, then pulled off into the trees. When it didn't start up again, I saw the back of a van speeding off and followed that, hoping I hadn't screwed up. And I still didn't know what their cargo was. Anyway, I followed the van to a farm and saw them carry the bundle into a barn. I watched the barn but every time I tried to get near, that horse got aggressive and the dirtbags would come in to check. I finally got in when they moved you to that table in the tack room and you know the rest."

Tim had removed his head from Gibbs' shoulder and now looked at him, hardly able to believe this was his former boss, the bastard who had treated him so badly that he'd been fired from the agency. "I don't get it. You never liked me, never had any respect, why save me now? Why not just let them kill me?"

Gibbs lowered his head and closed his eyes, opening them and looking directly at Tim, his words intense. "I couldn't let you die. I let you down so many times and I couldn't do that again, you didn't deserve any of that crap; I couldn't let worse happen to you. Never again! I'm not that person anymore, McGee. This sounds trite, a cliché, but I've found peace, love and purpose here and I know I'm not that bastard, not the same person I was then. I'm so sorry about all of it, how I mistreated you, how I let Abby do everything she did and then I hurt you and lied to you. I've carried it with me, regretted all of it since the day you confronted me, that look on your face, in your eyes, it's haunted me ever since, Tim. I hoped you'd had a happier life since and I couldn't let them or anyone hurt you anymore."

Tim looked at him for a long time finally saying, "I have had a happy life since then." He stopped, thinking of telling him more. Gibbs lived here, far from Tim's loves, he'd saved his life but even so Tim knew the danger and wouldn't allow this man to hurt him again. What he'd tell him was just information, public information at that. With an internal nod, Tim started to take a deep breath, winced at the pain, bad idea, and eventually spoke again, "Delilah and I married and we have 3 kids. Ducky retired and lives with us in California. I run the Southwest office and Tony is nearby, running Marine West, he's married to a former Marine and his dad lives with them. Ellie is Rick Carter's SFA and spends vacations with us. The Palmers are in California now too; we opened our own autopsy suite at Southwest and Jimmy's running it. They have another child, a boy, and all 5 of the kids call Ducky 'Granducky'."

Gibbs looked at him, eyes wide and Tim realized he'd surprised him.

"Why are you surprised? Because I've advanced in the agency, that Tony has? Because Tony and I are still best friends? That I'm married with kids, that Tony's married and happy?"

"All of it but not surprised at your accomplishments, I am surprised that you're telling me. Thank you and congratulations. From junior agent to heading the Southwest office in 5 years is really something!"

"Six."

"Huh?"

"It's been six years and I'm also an Assistant Director." Tim mentally rolled his eyes at that unnecessary revelation; he sounded like a kindergartner boasting that teacher liked him best. He looked up at Gibbs again and if he hadn't been sure it would hurt too much, he'd have laughed at Gibbs' eyebrows climbing his forehead.

"You gonna replace Leon?"

"Nope, promised my wife. We're staying in California." Tim looked at him, "You gonna let people know it was you that saved me?"

"Have to, the Colombians already know."

Tim nodded, deep in thought. When he looked up he had a look on his face that made Gibbs want to gather him in his arms like he was a little boy. He tilted his head and gave into the need, pulling his former agent into a warm embrace and holding on, although not tight enough to hurt.

Tim was exhausted and found he didn't care about holding in his emotions. He cried, with Gibbs holding him, he cried. With gratitude for being alive, in physical and emotional pain at all that had happened, that Abby still hated him this much, that he could go home and see his family, hold his wife and little ones, that the man who'd hurt him so badly had saved him and apologized; everything crashed in on him.

He cried out his pain and then fell asleep, just like that. Gibbs gently laid his head and shoulders down, pulling the light blanket up. Silently he shed a few tears of his own, thanking the universe for allowing him to save Tim's life and for the hope that he might have another chance with him, that maybe he'd be forgiven, maybe there could be redemption. At the very core of him there was joy that Tim was alive, would return to his family and friends and recover from this.

He found Rita making chicken broth. Around here many things were done from scratch. His pensions, Marine and NCIS, put them financially ahead of the rest of the villagers but the two of them still lived simply, liked growing their own food and never hesitated to share. She'd killed a chicken this morning and now the broth was nearly ready, full of herbs, tiny bits of meat and mild spices that were tasty and would help Tim heal.

She looked at him, "You're tired, amor."

He nodded, "Kind of wrung out."

She smiled and gave him a kiss. "I'm proud of you."

He perked up and kissed her back. When she was back at the stove she asked, "Will you go with him when they come for him?"

"To the plane?"

She nodded.

"I don't know. If there's time, yes, I'll take him to the airfield. I'd rather not have whoever comes for him here in the village."

She shook her head, "They will not disturb us."

He sighed, "I know, but this life here with you and the others, this is my peace and I'd prefer they not be here."

"But you don't mind Timoteo being here."

"No he's a peaceful soul, he doesn't 'invade'."

"Ah, I see. Then I hope we will hear in time to meet them at the airfield, yes, mi amor I will go with you. Tim is not yet strong enough to sit up for that long, we'll take Matteo's van and put a mattress in it for him."

"Good idea." He nearly jumped as the cell phone Rita insisted he carry buzzed. "Hope this isn't them already."

He answered, "Hola."

"Gibbs?"

He recognized the voice instantly and felt the walls starting to close in. Realizing the man needed some response he said, "Yes."

"Leon Vance. Wanted to thank you for helping Tim, I was shocked when I was told you saved his life."

"Was really his move, a horse and the vest he was wearing that saved his life. He twisted out of the way of the hay fork and one tine caught him instead of four. And that one didn't penetrate as far as it could have because he had on a vest and then the horse knocked the bad guy down and stomped him to death. I couldn't get near Tim until the horse finally stopped. Then I got him out of there."

"But you were there, Gibbs and got him help. That's just incredible." He paused, gathering his thoughts, "I also wanted to let you know the agency jet will touch down at Buen Vuelo Aerodromo at 1700 your time today. I've been in touch with a Colonel Crespo of the National Police and they will bring them to your village."

"Who's them?"

"Dr. Brad Pitt, Agent DiNozzo, Agent Andreson who is McGee's lead SFA and either Dr. Mallard or Dr. Palmer, I haven't heard who won that argument and wouldn't be surprised if they both showed up."

Gibbs had to chuckle at that.

"There's no need for a long trip out here; my wife Rita and I will bring Tim to the airfield. She's the one who's been taking care of him; she's a nurse."

"Very well, I'll let the others know. How's McGee doing?"

"He's a little better today. Here, Rita will tell you."

Rita turned from the stove, opening her mouth to protest and saw the look on his face; he was uncomfortable speaking with whoever this was.

"Hello, I'm Rita, you asked about Tim?"

"Yes please, I'm Leon Vance, the head of NCIS."

That explained the handoff, "I see. Tim is far more alert today, he and Leroy had a long, good talk. He's still in a lot of pain although his wounds and ribs are healing, his fever broke about 3 this morning and the infection is…" She turned to her husband and in her native language asked him how to say the infection was reduced in English. He said 'reduced' loud enough for Vance to hear him and Rita rolled her eyes at him before resuming her report.

"Yes, his infection is reduced. He's not yet able to sit up but we have him propped up to keep his airways clear."

"That all sounds positive, thank you so much. Tim is not only one of my agents but a close friend. And his wife will be very happy to hear this."

"She should call here to speak with him, he'll probably be awake again in an hour or so. We won't leave for the airfield until 2:00 our time."

"Thank you, I'll let Delilah, Tim's wife, know. Please tell Gibbs I'll let the Colombians know you'll bring Tim to the airfield. If he's not sitting up, he's also not walking yet?"

"That's right; he will need assistance getting onto the plane."

"Fine, I'll let the authorities there know although I'm sure the doctors have included a gurney or stretcher. May I ask you another question?"

"Of course."

"Gibbs said you're a nurse and that you've been caring for him. Has there been a doctor involved?"

"Oh we left that out! Yes, Roy and Matteo, my brother, took him to the hospital. The doctors performed surgery on his wound, repaired a tear in his right lung, treated his injured eye and made sure his broken ribs were not a danger to his organs. He was there overnight and then released into my care. I trained there and work there when I'm needed."

"Ah, thank you, now it makes sense. Colonel Crespo probably said that but he'd just told me Gibbs rescued Tim and I lost track of what else was said. Now, I've kept you long enough, I appreciate your help and information. Tell your husband goodbye for me, por favor?"

"Si, señor. Adios."

She ended the call and turned to find her husband stirring the broth. He rolled his neck, "That was my former boss."

"Yes, he said he runs NCIS. He was pleasant but I can imagine how he'd sound when he's angry."

Roy looked pained, turning back to the stove. Rita caressed the back of his head, "I'll look in on Timoteo."

She entered their spare room and saw her patient beginning to stir. Sitting in the chair beside him, she smiled at him as he opened his eyes. "Hello Tim, how are you feeling?"

Her smile was so kind that he smiled back reflexively. He knew she wanted to hear details about his current status.

"I feel more alert, not so groggy. It hurts to take a deep breath or laugh. But I can speak without any problems." He looked at her, "Roy and I talked earlier."

She nodded and gently patted his arm, "I hope it did you as much good as it did him?"

He nodded, looking a little shy so she continued talking. "Leon Vance called to tell us the plane to take you home will be here late this afternoon. We'll take you to the airfield in my brother's van, you'll be more comfortable. In the meantime, Mr. Vance will speak to your wife and give her our phone number. I'm sure she will be very happy to hear your voice – and you hers."

Tim blinked back tears as he gave her a happy smile. "Yes! Do you know who is coming on the plane?"

Gibbs answered as he stood in the doorway, "Dr. Pitt, DiNozzo, someone named Andreson and either Palmer or Ducky or both."

Tim looked at him, "Will you speak to them, at least say hello, and show them you're alive and happy? We worried, you know, all of us when we didn't know where you were. DiNozzo, Callen and I went to Franks' old place several times to see if you were there."

Gibbs shrugged it off and then shook himself out of a long discarded habit. "Leyla knows where I am but promised to keep it to herself unless there was something I needed to know. And I didn't think anyone would want to know after what I did."

Tim nodded. "I was surprised when I worried. Then I realized that I'd cared about you even if you didn't care about me."

Gibbs bowed his head and moved closer. "I care now and I did then too, more than I thought, certainly more than my actions showed."

Tim just looked at him, still not sure he could trust him and then realizing it didn't matter, he'd probably never see him again anyway.

"Ok, then please talk with them, at least say hello, I'm alive, this is my beautiful wife."

Gibbs nodded, "I can do that. No questions though, except about you."

"Deal."

Rita brought in a bowl of the broth and helped Tim with it. When he finished, she asked if he wanted more and his eyes lit up, "Yes please, that's delicious!"

She bent over and looked at his injured eye. "You are lucky, your eye is almost completely healed. Eyes are one of the quickest healing organs of our bodies. Your vision is better now than it was when you first woke, yes?"

"Yes, it is, thanks. My sight was pretty cloudy when I woke up, now it's much clearer."

She patted his arm, she liked this man and was beginning to understand why Roy said he had a peaceful soul. When her husband returned with more broth, he helped him with it. Then he washed his face and helped Tim with the bedpan. Before Gibbs left the room, he handed a white envelope to Tim. "What's this?"

"A letter I've been writing you."

"While I've been here?"

"No, before. I started after I arrived here and started behaving like a decent human being again."

Tim smiled, "Funny, I have a letter I've been writing you for a while. Never had a place to send it. I'll finish it and mail it to you when I get home."

Gibbs chuckled, "Can't wait to read it!"

He went out to find Matteo and get his van set up when his cell, still in the kitchen, rang. Rita answered, "Hola…Hello?"

"Hello, this is Delilah McGee. Is this Rita Ortiz?"

Rita chuckled, "Yes and I am glad to hear your voice! Tim is awake and waiting for you to call, I will take the phone to him."

She handed the phone to Tim and they found a way for him to hold it comfortably. Then she left the room, giving him some privacy. When she no longer heard his voice, she went back in and found him asleep with a smile on his face, the phone still in his hand.

He was awake again about an hour before they left for the airfield and was given more broth with a piece of bread soaked in it. Rita gave him a sponge bath, keeping him distracted by asking questions about his family. After, she helped him change into a clean pair of Gibbs' pajamas and Tim smiled, "I'll mail these back to you."

"No need, he rarely wears them anyway!" She blushed as she realized what she'd said while Tim chuckled. He understood; he'd only started to wear pajamas when he became a father.

Gibbs and Matteo spent some time getting the van ready, setting up a double mattress with a thick piece of foam underneath to cushion against some of the potholes and bumps of the road they'd be traveling. Gibbs would sit with Tim so they fixed several padded areas for him too. By the time they finished, Rita's brother laughed, saying he could now live in the van if he needed to. Once they filled up the fuel tank, all they needed was their patient and his nurse.

They had a stretcher they'd borrowed from the hospital and carefully transferred Tim to it, slowly moving him through the house to the van. They'd decided to give themselves an extra hour so they could drive as slowly as possible. None of them wanted Tim to hurt any more than he already did. They left him on the stretcher, removing the long handles and cross bars, covering him with blankets and adding more padding around him.

XXX

The NCIS jet landed a few minutes early; the hatch was quickly opened and the gangway lowered while Agents DiNozzo and Andreson went out. They motioned the others to join them at the request of Colonel Crespo, there to welcome them. Tony, Ducky and Jimmy barely listened to the man as they watched a white van approaching them.

The Colonel turned to see what caught their interest and smiled, "Ah, here are the Ortizes and Gibbs with your man."

The van stopped and the engine turned off. The driver hopped out, nodded to them and headed to the back of the van. A woman got out of the front and smiled at them, "Hello and welcome to Colombia. I am Rita Ortiz Gibbs and your Timothy is in the back with my husband. Do you have a stretcher or gurney with you?"

The three doctors nodded and Jimmy ran back into the jet to get the gurney. They'd brought one similar to those used by EMTs for transport so Tim wouldn't have to be moved again once aboard; it was well padded for comfort, the wheels locked and he'd be securely strapped in.

Ducky hurried around to the back of the van with Dr. Pitt, anxious to see Timothy and Gibbs. DiNozzo went with them while Andreson remained on point at the gangway.

Inside the van, Gibbs and Tim were quietly talking. When Tim told him he forgave him for the mess with Abby, Gibbs wept. When Matteo opened the cargo door, Gibbs sighed, leaned over and kissed Tim's forehead. "Thank you. I never thought I'd have your forgiveness and I welcome it even though I'm not sure I deserve it. You're a good man, Timothy Farragut McGee and I wish you all the happiness in the world."

Tim smiled, "I won't be invasive about it but I'm not letting you go again."

Gibbs' eyes twinkled as he tapped the envelope tucked into the blankets. "You have my address and I'm sure my wife has yours."

He looked up when the others appeared. Tim paved the way for him, "Hi everyone, I'm really glad to see you! Gibbs is too but he's feeling shy so say hello but no questions for him please…unless it's about him rescuing me."

He had his hand on Gibbs' wrist while he was talking and Ducky beamed at them. "I won't ask but I do need to see you both in daylight please!"

Dr. Pitt made a noise and motioned Gibbs out. "C'mon out Gibbs, I need to examine our patient before we move him."

Rita joined the crowd at the back and with a look from the doctor in the van, shooed the others out of earshot.

Gibbs was heartened by a hug from Ducky and he held on, then leaned down and kissed the top of the older man's head whispering, "Missed you, Duck."

"Me too, Jethro."

DiNozzo wanted to leave, get on the plane. He couldn't figure out how he felt and he didn't know what to do. Then he looked into the van and saw Tim watching him. He smiled at his friend and saw the slight signal that meant all was well. He looked at Gibbs, still held firmly in Ducky's arms and back at Tim who gave him a serious nod. Ok, this wasn't just a momentary thing, from Tim's signal and look they'd somehow worked things out between then. And yeah if Gibbs had really rescued Tim from the kidnappers, chased down two of them, then helped nurse him he could see that was grounds for forgiveness. If it meant he got to take his best friend home and help him get healthy, yeah, he could forgive their old boss for the past.

Mind made up and tired of waiting, he tapped Ducky's shoulder and was shocked when Gibbs looked up with tears running down his face. Gibbs crying and in public, wow, he really had changed. Tony swallowed and then not really knowing what else to do copied Ducky and reached out, hoping he wouldn't be rebuffed. He wasn't and tightened his arms around Gibbs as the man embraced him. He muttered into his ear, "Tim says you two are cool so I'm cool too. Thank you for saving him, for allowing Delilah, Jorry, Zoe and Anna to see her husband and their daddy again. And for saving my best friend, I think you saved me too."

Gibbs pulled back, looked at him and then patted his face affectionately. "You're a good man, Anthony. Thank you."

Behind them, in the van, Dr. Pitt was still examining Tim while he asked Rita questions about his treatment. She handed him copies of the tests they'd done at the hospital as well as copies of the surgeon's and other physicians' reports. He thanked her while he finished up.

Jimmy saw that Tim had apparently forgiven Gibbs and let the others know. Now time was running out and he still hadn't had a chance to see Gibbs. Gibbs smiled at him over Tony's shoulder and whispered something to DiNozzo who straightened and moved away. Jimmy moved in, hoping for a handshake and was pulled into a hug with a whispered, "Thanks for taking care of them." He nodded and chuckled when he was asked his son's name. He replied and then it was time to get Tim out of the van.

Dr. Pitt was happy for this group; he'd heard some of the conversations on the way down, felt the tension and was glad it seemed to be resolved. He'd been amused and touched at Drs. Mallard and Palmer's insistence that he would need help with Tim's care on the way home. He didn't but understood how frightening and stressful Tim's kidnapping had been. Now he hated to pull the plug on the reunion but they needed to get Tim onto the jet and start their return journey.

Carefully reassembling the stretcher borrowed from the local hospital, they brought Tim out of the van on it, transferring him to the gurney to the cheers of his friends. Colonel Crespo was still there and greeted him cordially. He was inordinately pleased when Tim told him he'd always have good thoughts about Colombia and that he was grateful his friend Gibbs had found his true home here. Photos were taken with the Colonel and then with Gibbs, Rita and Matteo. With a look at Tony, Tim asked Rita to take a photo of the 3 former teammates and then another including Ducky and Jimmy. Andreson and Dr. Pitt also got in the photos and then Rita gave Tony back his phone, saying "It's time. Tim needs to get situated, he doesn't yet have much strength and you still have a 6 hour flight ahead of you."

She turned to Ducky and handed him a bag with a still warm container in it. "Tim loves the chicken broth I made him. Here is some for his trip home."

Ducky beamed as he kissed her cheek. Then they rolled the gurney and Tim to the gangway, collapsed the structure, and carried him up the gangway, into the cabin of the jet. With a final quick hug to Tim and touches for the others, Gibbs nearly ran back down the gangway to the van. He climbed in the back, Rita and Matteo climbed in and the van quickly left as the gangway was retracted, the hatch closed and locked and the jet prepared for takeoff.


	2. Chapter 2

One Year Later

Gibbs stood near the building on the side of the tarmac, fidgeting and wishing he'd thought to bring his fishing gear and a cooler. He could have caught enough fish to feed the entire village in the time he'd waited. Finally a sleek jet appeared, making a somewhat bouncy landing.

When the hatch was opened and the gangway down, he walked forward eagerly, smiling as Tim stood in the hatchway grinning at him. He hurried down and the two men embraced.

Finally Gibbs backed up a step, still holding Tim by his shoulders, "You ok? That looked like a pretty rough landing."

Tim rolled his eyes, leaning forward saying quietly, "Jet belongs to the FBI so…you know. I take ginger root and use these sea bands to avoid motion sickness now though."

Gibbs chuckled, "How'd they end up your ride?"

"Let's see if I can get this straight. Leon said it is because 1) they were in charge of checking out the security at the Americas conference and obviously blew it. And 2) the FBI was also supposed to have eyes and ears on Sciuto and they quite obviously failed there too. I heard that Secretary Porter agreed and flat out told Director Stern he was providing transportation and housing for me for the trial of the kidnappers; the kidnappers who wouldn't have succeeded if the Bureau had done their jobs right."

"Well played and it's all true too. So, I know the trial's over but I didn't listen to the verdict."

"Hmm, well as you know from your own days of fun that was a new experience for both of us, a trial outside the U.S. As we said last week, it was actually handled very smoothly and the security was almost overwhelming. So since you opted to get the hell out of Dodge, I mean come home the minute your testimony was given, here's the verdict. Guilty on all counts for both of them: for the attack at the conference, 3 counts of kidnapping, 12 counts of murder, 15 attempted murder, transporting a kidnap victim over international borders, torturing and attempting to murder me." He paused, "Mandatory and immediate death sentences, think the executions have already been carried out."

Gibbs wrapped an arm around his shoulder, hoping to chase his friend's collywobbles away. "Glad you're here. And Abby's trial is over so you're safe from her craziness."

"Yeah, glad neither of us had to be involved with that. Tobias told me the results. Guilty of all charges. She got 75 years for conspiracy to kill a federal agent, the attack at the conference, and the same charges as the kidnappers plus murder for hire."

"And the guard who passed information, arranged to hire the dirtbags for her?"

"They threw the book at him too. He got 50 years total, for the conspiracy charges, murder for hire, assisting a convicted felon and some of the same counts as Abby. That's 45 years plus another 5 tacked on for obstructing justice. He's 57, wanted the money to pad his retirement."

"He sure won't have to worry about that now." Gibbs looked at his companion, "It's done now, Tim, no more trials. Kick back and relax for a few days here then head back to your life. Did you bring new pictures?"

Tim smiled tiredly, "Greedy guy, the hundred you saw when we were in Mexico weren't enough?" He chuckled, "Lilah and Breena sent me new shots so I have new McGee and Palmer kid photos and more DiNozzo wedding pictures."

"Great, I still…ah…forgot, you need to get checked in; that poor Customs guy probably wants to get home."

After Tim's passport and papers were checked and cleared he rejoined Gibbs who grabbed his bag from him.

"C'mon, let's get home. Rita killed a chicken this morning and it's been roasting on a spit for hours, we're going to have a feast!"

As they walked to the truck, he rested his arm on Tim's shoulders. "So tell me more about Tony's wife, can't believe he married a Marine!"

Tim chuckled, "Ah, you'd love Maggie, she's great, even likes Senior _and_ movies!"

The two men laughed in harmony as they reached the truck and settled in for the journey home.

The End

So…yes, I had to find a way to give Gibbs a chance to redeem himself with Tim. Changing the characters' perspectives may seem like an easy 'fix' but it has real life connotations for me and my family. Some things, many irritating, annoying, even troubling things just don't matter in the long run. Or even the short run. Maholo.


End file.
